


Serendipity

by sumnawaz



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Don't like each other but pretend to be dating, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Rivals to Lovers, Romance, Slow Burn, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 01:46:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30132111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sumnawaz/pseuds/sumnawaz
Summary: Peyton and Ethan weren’t the closest of friends—or even friends in the first place—which makes the fact that their parents are best friends all the more irritating. And their constant desire of wanting their children to date unbearable. When their families take a trip together to Paris, Ethan comes up with the ingenious plan of acting out a fake relationship to get their parents off their backs. Falling for one another was inevitable, wasn’t it?
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Kudos: 1





	Serendipity

**Author's Note:**

> if you've read my 5SOS fanfics on tumblr (cakesunflower), then you've read this before. i just wanted to repost my writing on here as original works just for funsies!

“Say hi to Ethan for me!”

Peyton rolled her eyes at her mother’s words, not bothering to turn around as she lifted her hand in a half hearted wave before stepping out of the house. She ignored her twenty-one year old sister Edie’s snickering, or the giggles of Edie’s girlfriend Diana as the three of them left the house and walked up to the Uber waiting for them.

As they settled in, Diana leaned forward to look at Peyton from the other side of Edie, the amused expression present on her face as she asked, “Do you think your mom will ever accept the fact that you and Ethan, like, hate each other?”

A scoff escaped Peyton, eyes on her phone as she scrolled through Instagram after texting Oliver that they were on their way. “At this point I’m pretty sure she likes to remain purposefully oblivious.”

Edie snorted. “Ignorance is bliss.”

Peyton gave an amused shake of her head, locking her phone before leaning back and staring out the window. It was almost ten o’clock, the sun long since having set and lights from street lamps and buildings brightening their surroundings as the Uber took them to the bar. It was their friend Oliver’s birthday and instead of having a big celebration, he wanted to just get together at his favorite bar, which Peyton was up for. She’s known him for about seven years, met when they were sixteen in high school, and still remain close after graduation and going to different universities. They had many mutual friends, but there was that one guy that Peyton felt like she could’ve gone her entire life without knowing.

Maybe it was just her being petty for all these years, but a bad first impression was enough for Peyton to groan at the mere mention of Ethan Rivers’s name. The first time they had met was at her high school graduation party that her parents threw, inviting her family and entire graduating class. Prior to graduation, they’d met Ethan’s parents through a mutual friend and had immediately hit it off, inviting them and their son who went to a school on the other side of their large town to Peyton’s party as well, where within ten minutes of his arrival, Ethan had managed to spill a drink down her dusty pink dress and then instead of apologizing, told her to watch where she was going when he had been the one to bump into her.

It was a cliche scene of a first meeting gone wrong, and it was definitely something that could’ve resolved itself quite easily, had it not been for Ethan’s stubborn nature for refusing to apologize and Peyton’s pettiness of not wanting to let it go. His parents had forced him to apologize at the time and when he did, it seemed as though Peyton was the only one who could tell how insincere he sounded, their parents’ fondness for one another making them deaf to the sarcasm in Ethan’s tone.

Ever since then, Peyton and Ethan had never been on the same page.

To make things worse? Their parents thought they’d make the cutest couple. So for five years, that’s the one consistent kick they’ve been on. The only thing Peyton and Ethan could agree on was how stupid and horrible that idea was because, really, what could possibly give them that idea?

Arriving at the bar, the colored lights and loud music were welcoming as the three girls immediately made their way towards the bar, ordering themselves drinks before spotting the group of people they were to meet. Oliver and everyone else were settled on the couch towards the back, the table in front of them already home to many beer bottles and glasses.

Oliver sat on the end of the L shaped couch, his profile to Peyton, and his obliviousness to her arrival was used to Peyton’s advantage as she quickly walked up behind him before wrapping her arms around his neck and exclaiming, “Happy birthday, Lu!”

The blonde’s hands went up to grasp Peyton’s arms briefly before letting out a laugh, glancing up at her as she moved to stand to his side, an arm still draped around his shoulder. “Thanks, P,” he returned, his arm going around her waist for a side hug. He then looked at Eide and Diana, greeting and thanking them as they chorused their wishes too.

Room was made and chairs were pulled up, with Edie and Diana settling on the couch and Peyton sitting on a chair opposite of the couch as she made conversation with Zach. For the first few minutes, Peyton enjoyed herself with a drink in her hand and friends around her, until the empty chair to her right suddenly became occupied and not all the margaritas in the world were enough to let her deal with the likes of Ethan Rivers.

Peyton’s shoulders tensed as he sat down, leaning away from him as he settled with his back against the chair and legs spread, a glass already in hand. She could see him glance at her through her peripheral as Ethan hummed over the music, “Ready to spend a week in Paris with me?”

Her jaw set at the reminder, grip on her glass tightening. Her parents’ thirtieth wedding anniversary was coming up and had planned a trip to Paris to renew their vows. Only, they weren’t going by themselves—it would be Peyton, her grandparents, Edie, Diana, Ethan, his sister and his parents as well. Her parents wanted those they were closest to there, which was all of them, since neither of Peyton’s parents had siblings. Of course, Peyton had been beyond thrilled over the idea of going to Paris—which soon became deflated when she realized she’d be in the company of Ethan fucking Rivers.

Huffing, Peyton didn’t even look towards Ethan, right leg crossed over her left knee as she responded, “Totally. Can’t wait to go on top of the Eiffel Tower.”

She heard Ethan snort, tone completely unimpressed as he retorted, “Why, so you can push me off it?” When Peyton pursed her lips, Ethan added with a mockingly disappointed sigh, “Always so immature with your words. Are you sure you’re a literature major?”

Her jaw began to ache from how tightly she was clenching it, finally turning to throw a glare at Ethan. But he was utterly relaxed, as usual, sipping his drink with his gaze straight ahead as the purple and blue colors of the club splashed against his skin. Instead of admiring the sharpness of his strong jaw and the sweep of his lashes like Peyton’s betraying mind wanted her to, she merely shook her head, deeming it useless, before looking away and sipping her own drink.

She was positive she’d be able to bite his head off more than enough during their week long visit of France.

Peyton ignored Ethan from then on, which was perfectly fine as he was doing the same, keeping himself entertained by chatting with his friends while Peyton chatted with the others. It was the mention of her name that dragged Peyton back to the right side of the table, hearing Edie bring her up with a teasing tone. “Oh, Cal—Mom says hi.” And then she added, “Well, she told Peyton to tell you she says hi, but that wasn’t going to happen.”

Peyton glanced over, unfazed. “I’m not a messenger.” She scoffed, bringing the straw to her mouth as she added flatly, “Mom’s always saying hi to Ethan.”

Ethan smirked, easily picking up on Peyton’s annoyance she thought she’d hid. He wasn’t going to tell her that his mother would’ve told him to give her regards to Peyton had he seen her before leaving for the bar. “Don’t be jealous that I’m the favorite kid.”

Edie snorted, not at all insulted as Peyton shot him an unimpressed glare. “Oh, yeah, I’m burning with jealousy,” she retorted, sarcasm heavy in her voice before finishing her margarita.

Sighing, Edie mused, “You two are gonna be so fun to be around in Paris.”

Zach snickered at their expense. “How much you wanna bet your parents picked the City of Love in hopes of you two getting together?”

He was only joking, but both Peyton and Ethan paled, expressions dropping as their friends sprung into racacious laughter, well aware of their parents trying to get their kids together for years. Peyton shuddered, because even though it may be a joke, the fact that she wouldn’t put it past her parents to do something like that made her throat dry. “I need another drink.”

She left behind everyone’s laughter as she made her way to the bar, letting out a breath. Honestly, Peyton was well aware her parents, maybe even Ethan’s, would be relentless about the two of them—they have been for years—especially in a place like Paris. It was ridiculous, how much her and Ethan’s parents yearned for their kids to get together, almost weird in a sense. They were well aware that the two weren’t friendly with one another, but every time they got in a spat, they would be told they argued like a married couple.

Like. . .  _ What _ ?

Folding her arms on top of the bar, Peyton leaned against it as the bartender made her drink, lost in her thoughts. Honestly, she was thrilled to be going to Paris—who wouldn’t be?—even if it meant having to see Ethan every day. Maybe she could sneak off and do her own thing, and the thought was uplifting until the annoying voice in the back of her head reminded her that her parents would want her to spend time with her sister and definitely with Ethan. 

Peyton sighed, settling on the empty stool and resting her chin on her palms, waiting for her drink as her shoulders sank. One would think dealing with the same shit for years would have Peyton get used to it by now, or just be able to ignore it altogether. And for the most part, she did, since she went to graduate school out of state and didn’t have to deal with her parents’ meddling face-to-face. It just got exhausting, especially when she and Ethan managed to get on each other’s nerves within five minutes of being in each other’s presence. Peyton truly wondered if their parents were genuinely oblivious to the lack of friendship between them or just ignored it in hopes of keeping their ridiculous fantasy in mind.

“Hey, sweetheart—can I buy you a drink?”

Eyebrows furrowing, Peyton turned her head to the left to see a man, definitely older than her and tipsy, leaning against the bar facing her with a smile on his face he probably considered charming. Not at all in the mood, Peyton parted her lips to tell the guy she wasn’t interested when another body appeared behind her, warm and domineering without even looking. But the familiar forest-reminiscent scent had Peyton’s back straightening, especially when the person spoke up.

“She’s with me, mate. And not interested.”

Pursing her lips, Peyton watched as the guy’s eyes flickered towards Ethan before his expression dropped and he pushed himself from the bar, walking away without another word. Rolling her eyes, Peyton looked ahead in time to see the bartender place her drink in front of her, thanking and paying her before taking the straw between her fingers. Peyton didn’t bother glancing Ethan’s way as he replaced the spot the guy had been in, flatly saying, “Could’ve handled that on my own.”

The glass clattered against the wooden bartop as Ethan placed his there. “Don’t care,” he returned in a tone that only proved his words. Rolling her eyes, Peyton sipped her margarita as Ethan faced her, feeling the tequila run down her throat as she looked at Ethan bemusedly. He was leaning against the bar on his left elbow, fingers from his right hand tracing the rim of his glass, gaze on his actions as he said, “I’ve got an idea.”

Peyton scoffed, her unimpressed expression returning to her face, a look she often wore towards Ethan. “Tell it to someone who cares,” came her instinctive response. She moved to get up from the seat, sarcasm evident in her tone. “I’m sure it’s riveting.”

She’d barely gotten off her seat when Ethan’s voice, irritated and edgy, sounded over the music playing. “Shut up and listen, will you? It won’t kill you.”

_ It just might _ . Peyton’s jaw clenched tightly, annoyance sparking through her veins as her eyes narrowed into a glare. One would assume the way Ethan was looking at her was uncaring and indifferent, but Peyton had known him long enough to detect the impatience in his dark eyes and the way his jaw was set. She wasn’t at all fond of the way he spoke to her, the scowl on her face saying just so, and Ethan rolled his eyes and released a heavy breath through his nose before relaxing himself and gesturing to the stool she’d been occupying.

This time Peyton exhaled sharply, begrudgingly settling back onto her stool as she pressed her lips together. Peyton wasn’t sure why she even listened, not one to extend any type of conversation with Ethan, but there was a look in his eyes that made her stay.

“What?” she questioned, eyebrows raising to emphasize the bored tone she spoke with.

Ethan remained leaning against the bar, and Peyton watched, sipping her drink, as Ethan tilted his head innocently with a smirk that said otherwise when he easily, effortlessly, stated, “Be my girlfriend.”

It didn’t help that her drink was sharp enough as it is, but Ethan’s words had Peyton immediately choking on the beverage as she haphazardly placed the glass back on the bar and coughed into the back of her hand. There was a mild sense of panic over the thought of choking, but Peyton felt a hand rub at her back to help her through the sudden coughing fit as she took a deep breath. No one really looked her way, too consumed by having a good time or her coughs drowned out by the music, which she was grateful for.

Be his  _ what _ ? Peyton was positive that she had most definitely misheard Ethan; thought maybe she drank too much and she was hearing things or that the loud music misconstrued what he said. But there was a heavy, unsettling feeling in her sinking stomach that she had heard exactly what she thought she did.

Disbelief hung Peyton’s jaw as she straightened on the stool, hands flat on the bartop as she looked up at Ethan with a wide eyed look that painted the perfect picture of her incredulity. His hand was rubbing her back to soothe her out of her coughing fit, and she ignored how warm, near electrifying, his touch had been as he pulled his hand away. All Peyton could focus on was the fact that Ethan looked completely serious, as opposed to Peyton’s utter shock. The fact that he looked so at ease, as if he hadn’t just said the most ridiculous thing ever.

“Did you drink too much?” Peyton demanded breathlessly, leaning away from Ethan as she stared up at the tattooed man. She was definitely struggling wrapping her mind around what Ethan said, hoping he had some good explanation for it. “What the fuck, Ethan?”

He rolled his eyes, finding Peyton too dramatic although he didn’t entirely blame her for her reaction. It was kind of amusing, honest. “Hear me out, will you?” Ethan’s smooth voice said, finishing off the rest of his drink and Peyton pursed her lips as she smoothed down her blouse, averting her gaze from the sight of his working throat, which he cleared once he put the glass down. “Our parents have been up our ass for years ’bout gettin’ together, yeah?” Peyton only scoffed in answer. “If we  _ pretend  _ to be together, just for a little bit to make it through this Paris trip, maybe they’ll leave us alone.”

Peyton gaped at him, lips parting and eyes narrowed dubiously, unsure if he was serious or not. The fact that Ethan’s expression was totally void of amusement or teasing had her bristling. “How does that remotely sound like an idea that would work?” she exclaimed questioningly, holding back her confused laughter. “If—if anything, they’d be even  _ further _ up our asses.”

“Not necessarily,” Ethan said, moving to sit on the stool his legs were bumping into, facing Peyton. When she shot him a disbelieving look, Ethan let out a breath. “Look—they already try to talk us into goin’ on a date. A few days before we leave for Paris, we’ll pretend that we did, make up some shit story about it and make ‘em believe their years of pushing is finally paying off. We pretend in Paris, make it seem like we’re together, and then once it’s over we come up with some reason to break up and they’d have no choice but to respect that decision. They wanted us to date, we tried, it didn’t work out—the end.”

His words were followed by an old Drake song playing throughout the bar, and Peyton wondered if Ethan genuinely believed this plan of his was fool proof or something. Her eyebrows were drawn together over scrutinizing eyes and Peyton felt as though she needed another drink after hearing Ethan’s  _ idea _ . It was so stupid and it would never work. Peyton was sure they would be even more relentless than they’ve been for the past few years, probably would be over the moon that their dreams were coming true or some shit. She just couldn’t see how this would work in the way Ethan thought it would.

She let out a scoff, shaking her head at him. “So instead of having them hound us for getting together, you want to give them ammunition to talk about our  _ relationship _ ?” Peyton used her fingers to create air quotes around the last word, shooting him a bemused look. “That’s fucking dumb, Ethan. They’d be even more annoying than they are now.”

Also—did Ethan not understand what his plan would entail? If the two of them had to pretend to be dating, wouldn’t they have to hold hands or something in front of their parents to sell it? Physical contact between Peyton and Ethan was extremely scarce and rare—she highly doubted they’d be able to hold hands without feeling extremely awkward about it. It wouldn’t seem natural. Was Ethan forgetting that?

“Maybe,” Ethan shrugged nonchalantly in response to Peyton’s words, not at all looking offended as she insulted his plan. “But there’s also a good chance they won’t be as bad. Think about it—” He paused, elbow resting on the bar top while his right hand gripped his knee, his brown eyes locked with Peyton’s own. “—All these years, they’ve only ever talked about how they think we’d be good together. Once they see that we are, sure, they’ll make comments about how happy they are and try to get us to talk about the relationship, but my folks know me. They know I don’t like to talk ’bout ‘em too much, and if I tell them you and I are just seeing how things go and want to keep it to ourselves, they’ll respect that.” Ethan sighed at Peyton’s still dubious expression. “’M not sayin’ the comments will completely stop, but they’ll definitely ease up. Once we’re back from the trip, we wait a little bit and then break up.” He grinned, holding his hands out in a ta-da motion. “Their dreams will be shattered and we’ll be left alone.”

Peyton snorted, looking away from him as she shook her head. “You’re terrible,” she easily said. But even she had to admit, in some freaky, roundabout and absurd way, Ethan’s plan had some kind of logic in it. They’d be fucking with their parents to get them to lay off, which Peyton still wasn’t entirely convinced would work, but it may be worth a shot. Only—that meant having to pretend to be Ethan’s girlfriend, and Peyton wasn’t sure that was something she could pull off for even five minutes, much less a week.

Years of unfriendly hostility and heated glares were to be put on a shelf for the sake of fooling their parents.

It would only last a week or so, and while there was a good chance this ludicrous plan of Ethan’s wasn’t even going to work, the thought of potentially being free of her parents’ endless pleading over her nonexistent love life with Ethan was too enticing.

Maybe that’s why she said yes. Maybe that’s why she ignored the small, rational voice in her brain telling her this could definitely blow up in their faces.

*****

When an arm draped over Peyton’s shoulder, she tensed as the familiar earthy scent engulfed her and instinctively, she moved to pull away. But the grip tightened, keeping her in place as Ethan’s voice murmured, “Stay put, doll.”

Peyton pursed her lips, keeping her expression neutral as she lifted her chin and kept her eyes on the baggage claim in front of her. “Don’t call me that,” she grumbled under her breath.

Ethan smirked, unfazed as he kept her close. “What’s wrong? Eleven hour flight got you cranky?”

She was quite well rested, actually, slept through a majority of it and was wide awake now, which was good since it was early in the afternoon in Paris. Her agitation came from Ethan standing so close to her, arm around her and keeping her tucked into his side. It wasn’t the first time he’d touched her, but it wasn’t something Peyton was used to just yet. When they planned their first date, they had no intention of actually going on. Just put on a show of Ethan showing up at Peyton’s parents’ house to pick her up, saying hi to her overjoyed parents before taking Peyton’s hand in his and leading her to the car, well aware of her parents’ gazes. When he had first grasped her hand, Peyton was about to pull it away when she remembered it was just pretend.

Their so called date included Ethan and Peyton ending up in Zach’s apartment to hang out with him and the boys. They had some explaining to do to the boys when they showed up together, a sight completely out of the ordinary, and the boys only guffawed at their ridiculous plan. But they were well aware of the two’s parents’ antics, so they didn’t entirely blame Ethan and Peyton for their near desperate plan.

That was five days before they left for Paris, and since then Peyton’s parents, her mom in particular, were quite excited that she and Ethan were finally trying to look at things from their perspective.

Peyton wasn’t sure if she was annoyed or relieved that Ethan’s plan seemed to be working. After she’d faked shyness and told her parents they were just trying to figure things out and wanted to take things slow, they’d understandably backed off. Just like Ethan had predicted.

Damn. If only they’d tried this years ago.

Peyton nearly cringed. Did she really just consider that?

She tilted her head to look up at Ethan, his height always towering as his arm remained around her shoulders. An exaggeratedly sweet smile upturned her lips as she hummed, “You’re irritating.”

His smirk only widened, other hand lifting until the tip of his finger tapped the tip of Peyton’s nose as he mused back in an annoying voice one would speak to little kids with, “So are you.”

Peyton rolled her eyes, conveniently catching sight of her silver suitcase making its way over. Jutting her chin towards it, she drawled, “Why don’t you be a good boyfriend and get my suitcase, hmm? Wouldn’t want our folks to think you’re anything less than gentleman, would we?”

This time Ethan rolled his eyes with a scoff, dropping his arm from around Peyton. He wasn’t one to do what Peyton told him to, but he didn’t bother arguing as he stepped up to the conveyor belt and waited a few seconds for the suitcase to come over. Peyton watched as Ethan’s right hand gripped the handle on top, effortlessly lifting up a suitcase Peyton had trouble getting down the stairs as she clenched her teeth at the sight of his back muscles rippling through the soft material of his red tee.

He may be a dick, but even a blind man could agree he was a sight to be seen.

Peyton averted her gaze quickly, putting her attention on her phone as Ethan turned and rolled her suitcase over, a tight lipped smile on his face. She scoffed once he was in front of her, her gaze flickering to where her and his parents stood, still waiting for a few suitcases. Meeting Ethan’s eyes once more, Peyton said quietly, “If you keep that constipated smile on your face every time we’re together, we’re never gonna sell this. You’re a shit actor.”

Jeez—even she was better than him at this faking thing, and this whole plan had been  _ his  _ brilliant idea! If he couldn’t pretend, then what was the damn point?

There was a spark in his dark eyes which narrowed immediately at Peyton’s words, coming to stand in front of her in all of his towering height. He smirked down at her, wolfish and challenging that almost made Peyton bristle. “Oh, I’m gonna have fun makin’ you regret sayin’ that,” Ethan mused, voice a smooth husky tone that Peyton disturbingly realized had goosebumps raising on her skin as well as her eyes widening under drawn together eyebrows.

What the  _ fuck  _ did that mean?

He casually wandered away from her after that, and Peyton took in a deep breath before exhaling slowly. One way or another, she had a feeling she was in for it.

Fortunately, they didn’t have to wait long for the rest of the suitcases and eventually they were all piling into a few different taxis to take them to the hotel. Peyton excitedly entered her room, which was a single suite that she got all to herself, connected to Edie and Diana’s room. Since it was early in the afternoon, the plan was to unwind for an hour or so before freshening up and heading out to lunch with everyone, and Peyton was more than ready to dress in a cute outfit and explore Paris as soon as possible.

Knowing she most likely had to do so with Ethan was a thought she was pushing away for now. No need to spoil her mood already.

An hour or so later, Peyton had showered and put on a pretty yellow floral dress, the weather outside permitting such an outfit as she did her makeup and slipped on her shoes, right before getting a text from her mother that they were all meeting in the lobby.

Grabbing her purse, Peyton opened the door of her hotel room, stepping out in time to see the door right across the hall opened and out stepped Ethan. The both of them paused at the sight of the other, unaware of how close their rooms were, and Peyton noticed in mild frustration as an amused smirk tilted at Ethan’s lips, regarding her coolly as the door behind her shut. Of course her parents booked their rooms right across from each other. She was surprised they hadn’t gotten them connecting rooms.

Peyton would’ve been  _ pissed _ .

She felt Ethan’s eyes trail over her, making her eyebrows twitch into a frown as she gripped the strap of her purse self consciously, eyeing him suspiciously as his dark eyes raked over her. It was unnerving that his stare didn’t feel invasive or creepy, having known him too long for it to be so. But what really got Peyton was the goosebumps she felt rise on her skin under Ethan’s look, hyper aware of his knack of taking in every detail and stupidly conscious that he’d point out something that would definitely insult or embarrass her.

“Don’t you look pretty.”

His unexpected words had Peyton staring at him in a mix of dumbfoundment and surprise, maybe even a bit of suspicion because why was he complimenting her? She wasn’t entirely sure if she could pick up on any sincerity in his tone, unsure if he actually meant it or he was just saying it to be an ass, because that’s what her relationship with Ethan was like.

So Peyton scoffed, stepping away from the door and beginning to walk down the carpeted hall towards the elevators. “No one is around us—you don’t have to pretend,” she responded with a roll of her eyes.

She heard Ethan’s deep chuckle from behind her until he was right next to her a moment later, his legs allowing him to catch up with her in two short strides. “Just practicing,” he hummed as Peyton pressed the button for the elevator. “Apparently I’m a shit actor so I figured practice makes perfect, right?”

Peyton couldn’t roll her eyes harder if she tried, shooting Ethan a bemused look as he stood next to her, tall and silently attractive in a fitted pale yellow tee and dark jeans. And it wasn’t until they stepped into the elevator that she finally noticed the color of his shirt, letting out a huff as she grumbled, “You couldn’t have picked a different color?”

Glancing down at himself, Ethan scoffed as he picked up on the similar colors of their outfits, before shrugging uncaringly as the elevator moved. “We’re just meant to be, aren’t we?” Ethan drawled, the sarcasm dripping heavily from his voice as he pulled out his phone and busied himself with it.

Peyton made a disgusted face at his words, face scrunching up at the abhorrent thought. The elevator then stopped two floors below the one they were on, the doors sliding open to allow a man to step in. Peyton’s gaze involuntarily flickered to the man, sporting a dark beard and appearing quite a few years older than her in age, probably mid-thirties, which is why a prickle of discomfort irritated her skin when she caught the way his dark blue eyes trailed over her figure.

It was startling how uneasy his gaze made her feel as opposed to Ethan.

Like he was undressing her with his eyes. Peyton pressed her lips together as the man stepped into the elevator, her dropping when she saw the way his lips curled appreciatively before moving to stand with his back to her, getting just a bit too into her personal space as the doors shut. Swallowing slightly, Peyton shifted on her feet, moving a small step back and to her right, accidentally bumping into Ethan.

She heard him click his tongue irritatingly, catching the brief annoyed look he shot her before returning his attention to his phone, but Peyton didn’t care in the moment. To be honest, she’d rather be pressed up against Ethan than be anywhere near the creepy man who couldn’t keep his wandering gaze to himself.

When the elevator doors slid open and the guy walked out, Peyton let out a quiet breath, missing the raise of Ethan’s eyebrows as they stepped out and walked towards where their families were. The lobby wasn’t too busy, and Peyton’s mom caught sight of her right away, a grin taking over her face as she and Ethan approached the group.

“Aw, look at you two and your matching outfits,” she cooed, like one would to a baby, as Ethan’s mom also joined in on the fond smiles.

Peyton bit her tongue, knowing this was coming as she forced a smile to her lips, ignoring the amused look her sister was sending her. Edie found this whole pretend dating thing way too funny, and Peyton would do, had it not been her as a part of it. “You know what they say, Mrs. D.” Peyton nearly toppled over the sudden weight of Ethan’s arm around her shoulders, still not used to it as he tugged her into his side and now all she could smell was his cologne, forcing herself to relax in his hold. “Couple that matches together, stays together.”

_ Oh, my God. _ Peyton wanted to face-palm at Ethan’s ridiculous words, sharing an exasperatedly unimpressed look with Mali—who was also quite aware of their plan. Practically everyone was, save for the people they were trying to fool.

Apparently Ethan’s answer was enough for their parents, complimenting them before beginning to walk out of the hotel to head to whatever restaurant they’d decided on. Walking at the back of the group, Peyton let out an incredulous breath as she tilted her head to look up at Ethan. “Are you serious?” she asked, voice quiet enough for their parents not to hear as she gazed up at him. She had a nice view of his stubbly and sharp jaw, but Peyton wasn’t going to focus on that as Ethan raised an eyebrow at her. “It’s not even funny how corny that was—it was just  _ sad _ .”

“Quit complainin’,” Ethan rolled his eyes, his arm still a weight on her shoulders as they walked down the sidewalk. Their hotel was in a busy, touristy part of Paris, most of the main attractions within walking distance, including restaurants, which is why they all decided to go on foot. Peyton preferred it, allowing her to enjoy the Parisian scenery. Ethan jutted his chin towards their folks, his right hand reaching for the sunglasses hanging on the neckline of his tee before placing them over his eyes. “Satisfied them, didn’t it?”

Peyton pursed her lips and inhaled deeply through her nose, gaze flickering to the sky with a shake of her head as they continued walking. They were at the back of the group—she didn’t understand why he still needed to have his arm around her shoulders. But arguing with Ethan, while it could be fun at times, often proved to be exhausting and achieved nothing more often than not. It’s not like his touch disgusted her or anything—she just wasn’t used to it. Five years of knowing him and touches between them were nonexistent. So the feel of his warm arm around her bare shoulders, thanks to the spaghetti straps of her dress, was something to get used to.

She vehemently ignored the small, surprising voice in the back of her mind whispering how she liked it. Maybe she was delusional.

Instead of thinking about the situation she was in, Peyton let herself enjoy the sights they were walking by. She found herself mesmerized by some of the buildings, walking along the cobblestone pathway as the sun peeked out every now and then, passing by many cute cafes and boutiques. There was also lots of greenery in front of the stores, potted plants bright and colorful with some flowers in as well. She’d only been walking on the Paris streets for a few moments but Peyton was already in love. The sights they passed were enough to distract Peyton from the man whose side she was tucked into.

Eventually, they found a restaurant that had a fixed menu of salad, steak and fries, and since no one was a vegetarian or anything, they headed inside. It wasn’t until Ethan settled on the chair to her right did Peyton realize the extent of their fake dating. For as long as they were here, she would have to sit with Ethan, hold hands with him, make it seem like they were an actual couple. She’d understood that, to a degree, when they’d gone on their fake date at Zach’s house, where they actually did take some time to discuss any details of their plan—which there weren’t that many of. They just agreed what they’d tell their parents about the so-called date like where they went and what they did, sell them on the fact that they actually had a good time and were genuinely interested in pursuing a relationship.

For years, the only time Peyton and Ethan saw each other was when they were both home from school and their friends were hanging out or if their parents wanted their families to get together. And while they weren’t particularly fond of being around one another, it was somewhat tolerable. Even though Peyton had told Ethan he was a shit actor in this whole pretending scheme they had going on, she was now wondering if it was her who’d be unable to keep this up. But really—would either of them be able to keep it going, even if it was just for a week?

Her legs were crossed under the table, right leg over her left knee, but her right foot was bouncing mid-air with nerves as her thoughts ran through her mind. And suddenly, despite being in a restaurant, all Peyton seemed to be able to smell was Ethan and the cologne he wore, sitting right next to her and his presence was suddenly dominating her senses. Her heart seemed to be picking up its pace as well, and Peyton wondered what’s suddenly gotten her so on edge. It was just pretend. Surely she was capable of acting like she and Ethan were a couple for a week or so, right?

There was a hand on her right thigh, fingers lightly digging into her skin as the soft material of her dress did nothing to allow the warmth from the hand to dig into her body. Peyton’s foot froze, as did her entire body, as she tried to keep her expression neutral while dropping her gaze to her lap, where Ethan’s tattooed, ring clad hand was resting on her. Her heart thudded, completely astonished that he was touching her, yet. . . Not disturbed or disgruntled. Just utterly surprised.

Everyone was chattering amongst themselves, and Peyton took a breath as she ignored the heat she felt from Ethan’s hand, leaning towards him ever so slightly and turning her head to face him. Automatically, while listening to the conversation his dad was having with Peyton’s grandfather across the table, Ethan leaned towards Peyton.

“ _ What _ are you doing?” she hissed, raising her eyebrows in alarmed question.

Ethan turned his own head to face her, their faces inches apart yet neither of them paid that any attention as his dark eyes locked with hers. There was mischievous mirth dancing in his brown irises, looking like he was enjoying this way too much. “What, I can’t touch my girl?” he responded just as quietly, though the innocence in his voice was loud and clear.

Peyton pursed her lips, picking up on the way Ethan’s gaze flickered to her mouth for a split second. Her heart jumped. “I’m not your girl.”

Looking back at her, an arrogant smirk curled at Ethan’s lips, the kind that Peyton knew weakened all of the girls’ knees, the kind that was drying her throat without her consent. He leaned closer, his nose barely brushing hers, and Peyton suddenly felt as though her head was spinning because he was so  _ close _ , face flushing warm. “In Paris, you are,” he smoothly replied, giving her thigh a small squeeze, smirk widening when he saw the way Peyton’s throat worked to swallow the gasp that nearly escaped and the pinkness in her freckled face. He was having too much fun. He ticked his head to the table. “Drink your wine, sweetheart.”

Peyton gaped at him, watching with slightly parted lips as he returned to listening to the other conversation as if nothing had happened, as if his hand wasn’t on her thigh and burning her skin. As if he wasn’t in the midst of giving Peyton some kind of fucking crisis.

She didn’t like doing what Ethan said, but she still reached for her glass of wine. God knows how much of it she’d need to make it through this ridiculous plan.

Not like anyone could see under the fucking table anyway.

***** 

Unsurprisingly, summer nights in Paris were a bit busier than the mornings, which Ethan noticed as everyone, save for Peyton’s grandparents, walked to the Eiffel Tower. It was their second night in Paris, and somehow they’d forgone visiting the prominent landmark their first night, spending most of their time merely walking around and shopping, as well as getting sweets to eat at practically every bakery they passed by.

There were loads of people out and about, walking under the clear sky and lamps as street vendors tried to sell small knick knacks they had spread out on the ground. When they got to the tower, Ethan noticed the other side had a line for people to go to the top, since it was barely ten at night and going to the top was still open. He wasn’t surprised when the parents decided to do so, rolling his eyes when Mali went with them, leaving just him with Peyton, Edie, and Diana. 

He watched, near disinterested, as the girls took pictures of the tower and of each other. Crouching down, Ethan nursed his cigarette, taking a drag as his eyes wandered to Peyton. Diana was currently taking pictures of her and Edie, the two sisters posing in front of the tower with grins on their faces and laughs tumbling out of their mouths. Ethan watched quietly, blowing out billows of smoke, eyebrows involuntarily drawing together slightly as his eyes took in the sight of her smile.

It wasn’t something he hadn’t noticed before—Ethan would be blind to think Peyton wasn’t gorgeous. Voicing it was a complete different matter.

They never complimented one another. But Ethan would be utterly lying if he didn’t let those thoughts flutter in his mind every now and then. Being friends had never been in the books for them, but God damn it, was she gorgeous.

And he found himself looking at her, slowly bringing the cigarette back up to his lips, remembering his little move under the table at the restaurant yesterday. It had been an impulsive mood—completely unnecessary in regards to the plan, since no one could see under the table. But her leg had been bouncing and she was practically radiating some kind of nervous energy, and his hand had moved on its own accord. But then he had some teasing fun with her, and the sight of her blushing face and wide doe eyes had made it worth it. He found himself smirking as the lights for the Eiffel Tower behind her started going off and glittering against the sky night sky. Peyton turned around to admire the sight, recording it on her phone before tucking her phone in her purse as Ethan finished his cigarette and stubbed it out, flicking it to the trash just a few feet over before getting to his feet.

His movements seemed almost automatic as he took a few steps over, coming to stand next to Peyton as his gaze remained on the landmark in front of them, watching as the bright lights danced on it. The sight was mesmerizing, if he was being honest, watching with his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and lower lip pulled into his mouth absently.

But then a breeze blew by and suddenly, instead of smelling the nicotine he’d been taking in, all Ethan could smell was floral mixed with citrus, and he instantly knew it was from the woman standing next to him. Unable to help himself, Ethan glanced at Peyton, head turning towards her ever so slightly, catching the way her dark eyes glimmered and the gloss on her lips shone because of the lights. She was in a state of admiring wonder at the sight in front of them.

Then her body shivered slightly as another breeze blew by, strands of her dark hair flowing against the wind, and Ethan’s gaze flickered to her shirt—a V-neck blouse tucked into her jeans. Ethan pursed his lips for a moment, realizing that Paris nights seemed cooler than its mornings, before looking away with a slow blink of his eyes and licking his lips as he shrugged off his jacket. Peyton didn’t notice his movements, or did and didn’t acknowledge him, until Ethan draped his jacket over her shoulders.

He watched her jerk in startlement—apparently she  _ didn’t  _ notice—head snapping to him as his dark eyes met hers while he secured the jacket on her shoulders. She frowned, though she couldn’t hide the surprise and wariness in her eyes. “What’re you doing?”

A wry smirk tilted on Ethan’s lips, refraining to roll his eyes as he shoved his hands into the front pockets of his pants. He had on a full sleeved shirt which kept him warm enough, quirking an eyebrow at Peyton. “Actin’ like a good boyfriend,” Ethan quipped back.

Peyton let out a breathless scoff, her hands coming up to grip the collar of Ethan’s jacket as she kept it around her. She shook her head before asking, “Why do you do that when they  _ aren’t  _ around? The point is to be pretending in front of them, not when they aren’t here.”

She had a point, Ethan knew. But in this case, he’d feel like an ass if he just let her stand there in the cold when he’s got a jacket on and doesn’t even need it. Regardless of the status of their lack of friendship and fake relationship. Besides, it’s not like they didn’t act like a couple in front of their folks; Ethan just found it a bit amusing when he did so when they weren’t around and made Peyton bristle.

Raising an eyebrow, Ethan inquired, “Does it make you uncomfortable?”

Peyton frowned at that, lips thinning as Ethan waited for her answer. “No,” she muttered, and Ethan felt surprised at himself for feeling a small sense of relief at that. Peyton shrugged, shifting so she could put her arms through the sleeves. “It’s just weird.”

Ethan pulled his lips into his mouth at the sight of her in his jacket, feeling a kind of twist in the pit of his stomach that he was all too familiar with. The leather jacket hung off her frame, the broad shoulders of the apparel that fit him perfectly hanging off her smaller ones. It was a bit shaking, how appealing she looked in his jacket, a view Ethan never thought he’d see and never imagined himself admiring. Peyton’s hair was tucked into the collar of the jacket, chin lifted slightly as she returned her gaze to the tower and the shadows of the lights accentuated the curve of her jaw.

She was glowing, Ethan couldn’t help but notice. The glittering lights were dying down but there dull lamps around them gave her a soft glow that hid her freckles in her skin. Despite showing some level of agitation towards him, Peyton seemed fixed in a state of serenity, soft eyes taking in her surroundings and viewing them with quiet admirance. Ethan’s throat worked as he noticed her long lashes and the subtle pout of her lips; details he never gave himself the opportunity to notice over the years he’d known her.

There was a severe twist in his gut, one that nearly knocked him breathless for reasons he hadn’t seen coming.

Standing in front of the Eiffel Tower with Peyton next to him, draped in his jacket, Ethan found himself wanting to start the past five years all over again.

He wanted to laugh. It was only their second fucking day in Paris.

*****

“Smile, you two!”

A soft smile lifted the corners of Peyton’s lips, the smile coming to her a lot easier than she anticipated with Ethan’s arm around her waist and hand resting on her hip. The wind had picked up where they were, at the top of the Arc de Triomphe, but it was pleasant against the early afternoon sun. So Peyton smiled, her left arm around Ethan’s waist, her head leaning into his side as she ignored the thought that this didn’t feel half bad. It was an uninvited thought. 

“Oh,” Joy cooed after snapping the picture, walking towards them and holding her phone out. “Look at how cute you look.”

Both Ethan and Peyton looked at the picture, and Ethan instantly felt the jump in his heart at the sight of it. The sun was shining against them, their eyes squinting slightly though the smiles on their faces were evident, their skin glowing in their own way against the sunlight. Ethan chewed on the inside of his lower lip at the picture, taking note of how Peyton just barely came up to his shoulder, and how comfortable she looked tucked into his side. But that was just for show, wasn’t it? And the soft, fond smile playing on his mouth wasn’t genuine, right?

Suddenly becoming acutely aware of how his hand had gone from her hip to her lower back, Ethan quickly pulled it away, as if Peyton had burned him, and subtly took a step to distance himself from her. He missed the way Peyton glanced at him as he turned around to face the city below, running his ring clad fingers through his curls as he let out a breath. 

Ethan would be lying if he said within the past two days, he began reconsidering the plan. Not because it wasn’t working—it definitely was, they had their parents fooled—but because there was something  _ different _ . Ethan didn’t understand how quickly a change such as that could settle in, how he could barely feel the sting of annoyance and exasperation whenever Peyton appeared into view like he was so used to feeling. He still felt it, no doubt, but it was nowhere near as intense anymore. The fact that a few days of faking a relationship could sprout such a change was fucking unsettling. 

He was quiet for the rest of the time they spent up on the Arc de Triomphe, keeping to himself as he admired the view from the height they were at. Ethan needed a moment to himself, needed to get his scattered thoughts together as he frowned at the cars driving around below. Since when did he let Peyton Dennis get under his skin in any way? Since when did he allow himself to look at her in any different way than how he’d look at her before?

Once they were done on the Arc, Ethan and Peyton and their families walked down to the street before walking along the Champs-Élysées. There were many stores and restaurants on either side, and it seemed like their families wanted to go into every store whether they wanted to buy something or not. 

At one point, as they walked, Peyton ended up walking next to her mother, their arms linked together as they went. “Honey,” her mom spoke up quietly, making Peyton hum in response. “Everything okay with Ethan? He seems a bit off.”

Peyton looked away from the McDonalds they passed and glanced at her mom in confusion. But she was looking straight ahead at the man in question, and Peyton followed her gaze. Ethan walked a little ahead of the group, broad shoulders rigid under the burgundy bomber jacket he wore. Peyton didn’t understand how her mom could notice something being off with Ethan, but then she remembered how he’d acted on top of the Arc. One second they were smiling for a picture, and the next he was putting space between them like she was a fire he didn’t want to get burned by, all the while ridding his face of all expression.

Peyton knew Ethan to be moody at times, and while normally she wouldn’t care, for some reason she found curiosity picking at her, especially when her mom pointed it out.

Snapping into the role of his girlfriend, Peyton shot her mom a smile and said, “I’ll make sure he’s good.”

Her mom smiled in approval, and Peyton was walking away from her and passed everyone else before stepping up next to Ethan. But she made him aware of her presence by impulsively grasping his left hand in her right, feeling him jerk slightly in surprise even though she’s the one who felt the stark contrast of his cold rings against her warm skin. Peyton hadn’t expected herself to do that, her own heart jumping at her actions, but she was aware of their parents behind them and figured to put on a show.

When Ethan glanced at her, a questioning frown on his face, Peyton shrugged. “Apparently something seems off with my boyfriend and I gotta make sure you’re good.” She noticed the way his jaw set, looking straight ahead but not pulling his hand from her grasp. Peyton frowned at the unusually hard look in his dark eyes. “What’s up with you?” she questioned, now genuinely wondering if there actually was something bothering him.

“Nothing,” Ethan gruffly answered, not in the mood to talk to Peyton about the confused muddle that were his thoughts and feelings—not when he didn’t have a clue about them himself. Not when they had to do with her.

Peyton eyed him, easily picking up on the lie as they continued walking. Her gaze happened to drop to their joined hands. His silver bracelet was peeking from under the sleeve of his jacket, rings prettily decorating his fingers. Peyton chewed on her lower lip as she acknowledged how his skin felt warm, soft and inviting against hers. Let herself acknowledge the electricity shooting up her arm and sparking through her chest to leave her breathless. It almost had her gasping— _ that’s _ never happened before.

Peyton quickly looked away, alarmed gaze on the pavement they were walking on as her heart picked up its pace. What the fuck was going on?

“Let’s get ice cream,” Edie’s voice cut through Peyton’s panicked thoughts, her sister gesturing towards a small, quaint ice cream shop. 

They all walked to it, and once her dad bought Peyton her chocolate cone, she walked over to where Ethan was lingering on the street with his cup of ice cream, the shop too small with no tables or chairs for customers. He merely stood on the sidewalk, absently eating his treat, and as Peyton eyed him she found herself growing uncomfortable at how distant he looked. What was bothering him? Why was this bothering  _ her _ ? 

She approached him, licking at her ice cream. “You look way too moody for someone eating ice cream in the middle of Paris.”

Ethan let out a scoff, his plastic spoon scooping some more of the ice cream. “Am I supposed to smile every time I take a damn bite?”

Peyton rolled her eyes. “Wouldn’t kill you to act like you’re enjoying yourself.” She gave her ice cream a lick. “You’re in Paris, for fuck’s sake.”

This time Ethan rolled his eyes, working on his own treat. “Right—with my  _ girlfriend _ .”

Peyton shot him a look, glancing over her shoulder to see their families were out of earshot. To Ethan, she jeered, “What, this relationship preventing you from hooking up with some French babe?”

A wry smile quirked at his lips. At least it was a change from the blank looks. Ethan lazily waved his plastic spoon. “I’m nothing if not faithful.”

Peyton snorted, both amused yet unimpressed. “Is that why you’re so moody? You’re not getting laid?”

His smirk widened, cheekbones prominent as he took another spoonful of ice cream before he shot her a look, something akin to being dangerous dancing in his eyes. “Sure,” Ethan shrugged, facing her as his height towered over her. “Wanna help me out?”

Jaw dropping, a choked and startled gasp escaped Peyton as she gaped up at Ethan, not entirely used to sexual jokes from him. “Not your actual girlfriend, Ethan,” she stammered out. “Pretending doesn’t go that far.”

Ethan hated that he had to ignore a pang in his chest at Peyton pointing out that this was fake—hated that there was a pang to ignore in the first place.  _ Fake, fake, fake _ . It was all pretend.

Why was he having a hard time remembering that?

He schooled his expression, dark eyes meeting hers. “You’re breakin’ my heart,” he smoothly commented.

Peyton rolled her eyes, unfazed by his words until she looked at his ice cream, eyebrows drawing together. “What flavor is that?”

“Pistachio.”

Her face scrunched. “Ew.”

Raising an eyebrow, Ethan asked, “Have you ever tried it?” Peyton shook her head no. “Then how’re you gonna judge somethin’ you’ve never given a shot?”

Both of them purposely ignored how his words could definitely pertain to them, too. Eerily so.

Still, Peyton gave him an unconvinced look, and Ethan rolled his eyes before scooping some up in his spoon. Then, to Peyton’s surprise, he held it out to her and before she could even question him, Ethan nodded at the spoon before smirking, “Say  _ ah _ .”

Peyton’s incredulous gaze went from the spoon to Ethan’s eyes, feeling completely taken aback at the gesture and wondering if this was some kind of joke. Her mind blanked, not entirely sure how to react as Ethan watched her, before bringing the spoon towards her mouth and Peyton acted without thinking, parting her lips so he could bring it to her mouth.

His eyes were on hers as Peyton’s lips closed around the plastic spoon, the cold treat melting on her tongue while her stomach turned at the sight of Ethan’s gaze on her mouth. Suddenly Peyton couldn’t even focus on the taste of the ice cream, too distracted by Ethan’s intense stare that seemed to be burning right through her, freezing her in place. His eyes. . . There was a look in them she’d never seen directed towards her. A look that would’ve robbed her of all her breath if Mali hadn’t interrupted them.

Seriously. What the fuck was going on?

Hours later, around ten at night after dinner, they found themselves at the hotel bar. Their parents were gone on a night out together, Peyton’s grandparents were off doing their own thing, and the rest of them decided to grab some drinks. It was a nice bar with dim lights, TVs playing different channels a long couch against the wall opposite of the bar counter, with tables scattered around. They’d been nursing drinks for a few hours now, and around half past midnight Edie and Diana retreated to their bedroom with hands all over each other and drunken giggles falling past their lips.

As Ethan excused himself to grab a smoke, Mali and Peyton approached the bar and ordered themselves more drinks, settling on the stools as the bartender prepared their orders. “I seriously can’t believe you’ve got our parents fooled,” Mali giggled, shaking her head in disbelief as her dark eyes glimmered with amusement. She shifted in the seat to face Peyton, who sat to her right, grinning triumphantly. And a bit tipsily. “Like, they genuinely believe you two are in a relationship! What, do they think five years of them trying to force you together was finally paying off?”

Peyton laughed, her head feeling slightly heavy on her shoulders but the alcohol running through her system making her feel good about it, accepting the glass of Henny and Coke the bartender placed in front of her. “I think that’s exactly what we’re hoping for them to believe,” Peyton responded with a snort, lightly grasping the thin black straw between her fingers. With a smirk and a raise of an eyebrow, Peyton added, “Who knew Ethan and I were such good actors?” before taking a sip.

Mali snorted, fingers wrapping around her own glass as she crossed her right leg over her left knee. “You and Ethan are shit actors,” she countered, grinning at Peyton’s affronted look. “Our parents are just too happy to notice.”

Pouting, Peyton waved her off, dismissing Mali’s words and pretending that she and Ethan  _ were  _ good actors and that’s why the plan was working. They’d been fooling their parents for a few days now and had yet to slip up. Peyton took another sip of her drink; she hoped she hadn’t just jinxed that.

After finishing her drink, Mali checked her phone and stood up. “Mm, my boy’s finally getting off work. Time for a FaceTime date before I crash,” Mali said, running her fingers through her blonde hair. “D’you want me to wait with you until Cal gets back?”

Peyton snorted with a shake of her head. “No, no. Enjoy your virtual date.”

Kissing her cheek, Mali bid her goodnight before leaving the bar, taking a few men’s stares with her as she went. Busying herself on her phone, Peyton took sips of her drink as she scrolled through her social media. She was able to keep to herself for a few minutes until the seat Mali had been in was suddenly occupied, and before even looking Peyton could feel the hairs at the back of her neck standing up. She may be tipsy, head fluttering slightly, but she could pick up on the unease her body felt at the presence of someone else.

And when she looked to her left, Peyton understood why.

Her back straightened slowly, stomach sinking considerably when she recognized the man as the creepy dude from the elevator from the other day, her skin prickling in sensational discomfort. The man sat facing her, elbow resting on the bar as he shot her a smile that he probably thought was charming but made Peyton’s throat dry uneasily.

“Ciao, bella,” he greeted, leaning towards her as he spoke in an Italian accent that wasn’t too thick. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing by yourself?”

Tipsy or not, Peyton wanted to roll her eyes at the ridiculously cheesy and overused cliche. Cheesy pick up lines were a universal thing, of course, but that did not mean Peyton wanted to hear them. Especially not from a man in his thirties who was already eyeing her like a piece of meat. And suddenly, all Peyton could think about was  _ where is Ethan? _

“I’m not by myself,” Peyton answered, subtly leaning away from him as far as she could without falling off the stool.

She watched as the man sat up, exaggeratingly looking around as if he was searching for someone, and the pricke of annoyance intensified. For the first time, Peyton was grateful for her ability to not get drunk easily or her habit of reasonably controlling her alcohol intake. Being drunk around this guy was definitely not something she wanted to do.

Looking back at Peyton and grinning wolfishly, the guy mused, “I don’t see anyone with you.” His smirk widened. “But I can change that.”

He was getting too close, and suddenly all Peyton wanted to do was get out of here. For some reason, she couldn’t process the thought of getting the bartender’s attention to get this guy to leave her alone, not wanting to be here herself. She wanted to leave. 

“Not interested,” Peyton muttered, getting to her feet and thanking God she didn’t stumble or anything. She wasn’t that tipsy, but enough to act before she thought it through. “I’ve got a boyfriend.”

She could feel and see him turn around to keep his gaze on her, calling out, “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, bella.”

Peyton held her breath as she walked, her pace quick, frowning when she felt as though she was being watched and when she glanced over her shoulder, feeling her heart jump to her throat when she realized the guy was  _ following _ her. Mouth dry, Peyton didn’t go towards the elevators, not wanting to risk the chance of getting stuck with him in there. But as she left the bar and entered the lobby, her gaze flickered to the left where the windows facing the street were, her eyes catching sight of a familiar figure leisurely pacing about on the sidewalk right outside of the hotel, nursing a cigarette.

The guy was calling out to her, and Peyton moved impulsively.

She didn’t  _ think _ . 

But her steps were quick as she went outside, hearing the guy’s footsteps behind her, and with her breath held in her chest she approached Ethan, who happened to just turn her way as smoke curled from his lips. He paused in his pacing at the sight of her, dark eyebrows drawing together as the cigarette remained between his fingers.

Peyton saw the confused look he was giving her, wondering why she was outside at nearly two in the morning, looking frazzled. But she ignored the look, was acutely aware of the man coming up behind her, felt goosebumps rise on her skin and wasn’t sure if it was because of the cool breeze or because of the situation she found herself in.

But the creepy Italian guy was approaching her, and suddenly Peyton’s feet were moving and she was throwing caution into the very wind that was chilling her skin, ignoring the way Ethan’s bewildered gaze remained on her as she neared him. Her hands finding his cheeks, Peyton didn’t even  _ think _ as she pulled Ethan to her level and pressed her lips to his.

There was a mumble of surprise from his end, his hand automatically coming to grip her hip. And, God, at first the sole reason Peyton kissed him was to get away from the guy, to deter him. She hated that she needed to literally throw herself in the arms of some other guy to get a creepy one to leave her alone, but here she was, kissing Ethan fucking Rivers.

She could’ve definitely found some other way to get rid of the man. 

The question was if she  _ wanted _ to.

But as Peyton kissed Ethan, she felt her skin firing up at the first touch, her heart racing a hundred miles a minute as Ethan’s lips moved against hers after a brief moment of startled pause. Forget being drunk off of the drinks she’d consumed—the second Ethan’s lips sucked on her lower lip, Peyton found herself immediately getting intoxicated by the kiss, her hands going from his face to allow her to wrap her arms around his neck and keep him close, feeling an intense flutter throughout her body that weakened her knees. She could vaguely feel his own arm around her waist, pressing their fronts together, and Peyton had to keep down the pleasured whimper threatening to escape when Ethan’s tongue easily slipped into her mouth.

Ethan. This was  _ Ethan _ she was making out with in the middle of a goddamn sidewalk in Paris—and she didn’t fucking care. Not when his body felt so lean and inviting pressed against hers, not when she felt as though every cell in her body was coming to life, and certainly not when his plump lips were kissing her as though that’s what they were made for.

He tasted like a mixture of what he had drank and nicotine, not the best of combinations but Peyton had kissed cigarette smokers before, so she didn’t mind. She most certainly didn’t mind that it was Ethan— _ because _ it was Ethan. Years and years of frigid behavior and cold attitude were being utterly disregarded as Ethan’s tight arm around her kept her impossibly close, and Peyton found herself not wanting to let him go, either.

Their kiss slowed down moments later, becoming softer, almost sweeter, as Peyton’s arms unwinded from around his neck and her hands slowly came to lightly grasp the lapels of his jacket. Part of Peyton didn’t want the kiss to end, was hesitant on facing the aftermath of her stupidly impulsive actions because this was definitely not part of their fake relationship.

With that thought, Peyton pulled away with a small gasp, the air rushing into her lungs yet her eyes remained closed, trying to get the disarrayed thoughts in her raging mind together to form at least a single coherent line of thinking. She could feel Ethan’s warm, slightly heavy breath fanning against her skin as their foreheads pressed together, her skin exceptionally warm from what just happened. Her lips were still fucking tingling from touching Ethan’s, and Peyton had a sneaking suspicion that sensation wouldn’t stop any time soon.

She pressed her lips together, letting out a breath through her nose as her eyebrows furrowed together. Oh. Oh, God. She’d fucked up, hadn’t she? Kissing him definitely meant changing things between them, and Peyton wished for once, she thought things through. 

It was alarming; she wasn’t as thrown off over the fact that she’d kissed  _ Ethan  _ as opposed to the thought of how things would be between them now that it’s happened.

Peyton wondered if the hit of dizziness she felt was because of Ethan’s kiss or because of everything happening.

Swallowing, Peyton pulled away from Ethan, her hands still gripping his jacket and his arm still around her waist as she took in a shaky breath through her nose. As soon as Ethan opened his eyes, Peyton glanced away, unable to meet his gaze as she looked over her shoulder and realized the very man she’d been trying to get rid of was nowhere in sight.

That had her shoulders relaxing a little, but her stomach could be mistaken for a butterfly garden in the moment. “He’s gone,” she muttered in relief, nodding once to herself.

“Who’s gone?” The dazed confusion was evident in Ethan’s husky, breathless voice, clearly just as affected by the kiss as Peyton was.

She shook her head, turning her head back to face Ethan, yet unable to meet his gaze. The fact that she’d kissed him was still trying to wrap its way around her mind. “There was this guy,” Peyton began, eyes on her blue painted nails against his jacket. “Followed me out of the bar even when I said I had a boyfriend so I—”

“Decided to use your fake one to fool him, too?”

There was a familiarly edgy tone in Ethan’s voice that finally did have Peyton look up at him, her eyebrows drawing together as her dark eyes met Ethan’s. His, though, were back to the unreadable state they had been all day, which Peyton irritatingly found frustrated her to no end. She couldn’t pinpoint the moment she began caring about what was going on with Ethan, but she did, and it spun her head. Especially this change in attitude—an attitude she was used to over the years she’d known him, but still found surprising for some reason. 

And uncomfortable, like it didn’t fit Ethan. Peyton could already feel a headache coming on.

When Ethan’s arm dropped from around her waist, Peyton frowned a she took a step away from him, watching as he brought his forgotten cigarette back up to his mouth. “I just wanted to get a creepy thirty-something year old off my back,” she defended, glaring at his tone, eyes feeling heavy. With a scoff, she added, “Sorry if I made you feel used.”

“That’s what we’re doin’ though, isn’t it?” Ethan inquired sharply, dropping the finished cigarette to the pavement and snubbing it out with the heel of his shoe, dark eyes still on Peyton. He shrugged questioningly. “Usin’ each other, yeah?”

Peyton was fucking confused. She had no idea where this sudden hostile tone was coming from, why Ethan was looking at her as if she’d just committed some kind of crime. She hated that her lips yearned to be touched by his again. “This was your idea, remember?” she reminded with a raise of her eyebrows. “Kissing wasn’t a part of it and I’m sorry if I crossed some line, okay? I wasn’t thinking.”

There was a heaviness settling in her chest at the thought of making things worse as they could be with Ethan. During the years of their mutual unfriendliness towards one another, there had always been a line they wouldn’t cross, an insult or jab they wouldn’t throw because they knew it’d take things too far. The thought of crossing that line by kissing him made Peyton’s stomach twist and her body bristle in unease, guilt, and regret.

She watched as Ethan shook his head, running his ring clad fingers through his curls and messing them up. His broad shoulders dropped, and the defeated look he sent her way made her heart stutter. Ethan’s voice was low when he muttered, “You shouldn’t have done that.”

Fucking hell— _ why _ was she feeling tears burn her eyes? “I’m sorry.”

*****

There was definitely tension in the air. But it wasn’t like the kind that used to exist between them. Before, it used to stem from annoyance and exasperation and grievances with one another. Before, it used to be because they weren’t friends but were forced to see the person they couldn’t stand because of their friends and family. Now, though, the tension was different. Now, it stemmed from a moment shared between them that neither had expected, a moment they had thought about all night and got no sleep because of. A moment neither of them could stop thinking about—painfully yearning for it to happen again.

After that spontaneous, impulsive kiss, the two had retreated to their rooms in an awkward, heavy silence that still burdened their shoulders even once they split off to their separate rooms. Sleep hadn’t come easily to Peyton last night, making herself dizzy with thoughts over what happened, why it happened, how she could let it happen. It was just a kiss, it wasn’t too big of a deal; but this was Ethan—they barely had a stable relationship already. Things were bound to teter even more off balance than they already were. And it was her fault.

The next day, she didn’t see much of Ethan, which was a bit of a relief. She wasn’t quite prepared to face whatever aftermath there may be from last night’s event, truthfully feeling a bit embarrassed over what happened. He’d said  _ you shouldn’t have done that _ right after she kissed him. How fucking mortifying was that? Instead, Edie invited Peyton to come with her and Diana to visit the Louvre, so the three girls spent more of their morning into afternoon at the museum. Of course, they had to leave in time for their parents’ vow renewal ceremony later that evening, which was taking place in a beautiful garden lit up with fairy lights and lanterns that provided a soft glow.

And as Peyton stood there, in between her grandmother and Edie as they listened to her parents renew a preexisting love, Peyton felt her gaze involuntarily flickering to the right. As her father spoke of his love for her mother, Peyton’s eyes landed on Ethan, standing between his father and sister. Tall, broad shouldered and, for the first time Peyton wouldn’t feel hesitant on admitting out loud, extremely handsome. His attire of a white full sleeved button down with black stripes, black pants and polished boots made him seem ethereal, unfairly beautiful when he was doing nothing but standing there.

Peyton never let herself admire him before. Now. . . He’s all she could think about. And it was fucking with her head. She wondered if this was the universe playing some kind of cruel joke on her, because she didn’t think Ethan had looked her way at all except for a brief greeting when they first arrived, catching sight of each other for the first time that day.

But even that had been forced. Peyton felt her insides twist at the rigid hug they’d shared. It felt  _ wrong _ .

_ You shouldn’t have done that. _

It made her wonder when things with Ethan had started to feel  _ right _ .

*****

They were in Paris. They were in a city full of art and culture and beautiful sights. Yet Ethan was in his hotel room, binging on Netflix while everyone was out and about doing whatever. It had been a few hours since the Mr. and Mrs. Dennis’s ceremony, and after everyone enjoyed a nice dinner, they returned to the hotel in case they wanted to change clothes or just went off to do whatever the hell they wanted. Ethan, for one, decided to stay inside.

Mostly because he felt as though he needed to get his head on straight.

Things had completely changed in a matter of days and Ethan felt as though someone had pulled the rug out from under him. He, for the life of him, couldn’t understand or pinpoint when exactly he began developing feelings for Peyton. 

He could admit that to himself now. He had feelings for her. He liked her.

Seriously, though—it baffled him how out of nowhere they came from. One second things between them were as they had been for years, and the next moment the sight of her smile had his heart soaring in his chest. It hit him so fucking hard, knocked him right off his feet and robbed him of all his breath, and Ethan was dizzy with confusion as to how that could possibly happen. He wasn’t one to fall for someone so out of the blue, without even a single thought or consideration. But with Peyton. . . It just fucking  _ happened _ and Ethan had no idea what to do.

He wasn’t even paying attention to the show he was watching, laying on his side with his elbow propped up and head resting on his hand, a perpetual frown on his face as he lost himself in thoughts that weren’t making any sense. For fuck’s sake, this was Peyton Dennis; calling them friends over the years would’ve been a hard sell—and now he  _ liked _ her?

Matters of the heart really made no fucking sense, did they?

Maybe if he’d never suggested the stupid fucking idea of pretending to date, then this never would’ve happened.

As soon as that thought creeped through his mind, a voice at the back of his head roared to life, telling him the idea was probably the best one he could’ve had. That falling for Peyton was the best result he could ask for. But Ethan didn’t see any logic in that, especially when he doubted she felt the same way.

_ That _ thought had his heart sinking in his chest, his jaw clenching tightly in frustration.

Ethan knew, without wanting to admit it too much, that maybe things had been changing for a few days now. But then she went and kissed him, and everything he thought he knew in regards to his relations with Peyton were gone out the window. Because, fuck, he’d never felt anything like it. Her lips had been so soft, so tantalizing that his own burned with the desire of kissing her again. The first touch of her lips on his had his entire body igniting in a fire that would make the sun jealous, head in the clouds and never wanting to bring it down. Holding her that close, kissing her like that—Ethan was sure he’d never get enough. 

He was so lost in his thoughts that he barely registered the knocking on his door. Blinking out of his own head, Ethan’s eyes flickered to the time on the bedside clock, frowning when he saw it was one-thirty in the morning. Who the hell was knocking at his door?

Not bothering to put on a shirt, Ethan got out of bed, only wearing his sweatpants, as he wandered over to the door and leaned into check through the peephole.

His breath hitched in his throat when he saw Peyton standing on the other side. Ethan pulled away from the door, frowning confusedly at nothing in particular as he ran his fingers through his hair. What was she doing here? And why did the universe think it was a good idea to send the very girl he was thinking about right to his door?

Licking his lips, Ethan took a breath before gripping the door handle, the sound of the door opening catching Peyton’s attention as she looked ahead. Ethan watched, allowing himself to feel a bit smug, as her dark eyes took in the sight of him without a shirt, chest and arms and tattoos on full display for her viewing pleasure. He watched as her lips parted to speak up, the words dying on her tongue as her eyes flickered to his tattoos and physique, and while he admired that she seemed to be enamored by the sight of him, he needed for her to stop looking at him like that. Or else there’d definitely be a repeat of last night.

“I—” Peyton spoke up, clearing her throat, and this was the first time Ethan was seeing her nervous because of  _ him _ . Normally she’d ignore him or shoot him looks of annoyance or work her mouth with some snappy comment. But this was different. Ethan wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that. “Were you sleeping? I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

“No, I wasn’t,” Ethan told her with a small shake of his head. At the reminder of the time, his eyebrows drew together slightly. “Is everything okay?”

Peyton nodded. “Yeah.” Her throat worked, offering the smallest of smiles. “Can we, uh, talk?”

Ethan felt his heart thud particularly harshly at that, unsure if this was a conversation he wanted to have. But he nodded anyway, opening the door wider and stepping to the side. “Come in.”

She entered the room and Ethan couldn’t help but admire her as she walked past him, dressed in a jacket over a dark purple dress that had a V-neckline and hugged every curve she had, the sight of her in it making Ethan regret not wearing any boxers under his sweats as he shut the door. He took a breath, squeezing his eyes shut briefly as her scent filled his senses, before turning around to face her.

Before Ethan could ask her what was up, Peyton faced him and rushed out, “Are you mad at me?”

Ethan blinked before a puzzled frown took over his face. “What?”

“Because you’ve been acting weird since last night and I told you I was sorry if I went too far but I can’t help but get the feeling that you’re still angry.”

Had she had too much to drink or something? Ethan wasn’t even aware he’d given that kind of impression. “I’m not angry,” Ethan told her truthfully. He was confused and in a daze and kind of really fucking into her, but he wasn’t angry. “I could ask you the same thing, doll.”

Peyton appeared taken aback. “Me? Why?”

Ethan let out a small scoff of a laugh, feeling both amused and a bit disgruntled at the same time as he told her, “You’re the one that’s been off with your sister and Diana all day, Peyton.” He took a few steps closer to her, not a fan of the bit of distance between them. “Felt like you’ve been avoiding me all day.”

Her gaze averted as he neared her, rolling her lips into her mouth as she looked over to the side. She looked slightly guilty, but also hesitant. “I was just—” Peyton cut herself off, taking a deep breath before admitting with a near defeated shrug, “I was embarrassed.”

Ethan’s eyebrows drew together in a frown, her words taking him by surprise as he ducked his head ever so slightly, trying to catch her gaze as his face scrunched a bit in confusion. “Emba—why?” he repeated, watching as Peyton pursed her lips. “What about?”

Her dark eyes met his, looking almost incredulous as her eyebrows drew together upwards and a humorless scoff escaped her. “What about?” Peyton repeated with a shake of her head. “Right after I kissed you, you told me I shouldn’t have done that. That’s just—I mean, that’s embarrassing!” She ran her fingers through her dark hair, pushing it back. “How else am I supposed to feel?”

Ethan’s jaw was clenching as she spoke, realizing that his words probably made her freak out and feeling a pang of guilt for being the cause of that. Because the last thing she needed to be was embarrassed over what happened—and as much as it fucking confused the shit out of him, he didn’t regret it. “Not embarrassed,” he told her clearly, confidently, taking the last few steps between them to close the distance until he was standing in front of her. And, just like Peyton had the night before, Ethan decided to throw caution in the wind, too. His hands came to cradle her jaw, thumbs brushing across her cheeks as her wide eyes met his. “I only said that because. . .” He let out a breath through a smile. “Because it was a bitter reminder that what I want for real. . . Was only pretend.”

Peyton’s lips parted with a shaky inhale, Ethan’s heart thundering in his chest at his confession as her dark eyes stared intensely into his. “What you want. . .” she began, only to trail off with a breathless whisper.

Ethan’s lips quirked up into a smile, leaning closer to Peyton as he finished her sentence with a confirming, “Is you.” 

There was a moment of comprehension as Ethan’s words settled in Peyton’s mind, his heart beating wildly in his chest as his words hung in the air, giving him a moment to process what he’d just admitted to. That he’d just told Peyton Dennis, the girl he more often than not got into bickering arguments with, he wanted her.

Just like the night before, Peyton made the first move of grasping his wrists, feeling the metal of his bracelet against her skin, and leaning her head up just enough to connect their lips in a heated kiss, one Ethan returned instantaneously at the first feel of her soft lips against his. The desperation of the kiss had Ethan groaning against Peyton’s mouth, her hands starting at his chest before sliding up to his shoulders and then eventually finding home in his hair, her fingers tangling with his curls as Ethan wasted no time in licking at the seam of her lips before sliding his tongue in to meet hers.

His hands dropped from her face, his warm touch trailing down her body before placing his hands on the curve of her ass, smirking against her gasping mouth when he gave her a cheeky squeeze. Ethan’s head was spinning as he tasted the strawberry chapstick she wore, kissing the taste off as he bent his knees a bit, his lips never leaving Peyton’s as his hands found the back of her thighs and lifted her off the ground easily, her legs wrapping around his hips as Ethan nipped at her lips and settled himself on the edge of the bed, Peyton easily straddling his lap.

Their kisses were desperate, fueled by a fire neither of them wanted to put out, but eventually Ethan pulled away, smirking at the protesting whine that escaped Peyton, only to transform into a beautiful moan as he kissed his way along her jaw, fingers digging into her hips. Peyton’s head tilted as Ethan’s sinful lips worked on her neck, quickly discarding her jacket and dumping it somewhere on the floor as her left hand tangled itself into his hair once more and her right gripped his bicep, nails digging slightly into his skin as he found that spot that had her breath hitching. The sensation of his lips, tongue and teeth working on her skin in addition to his scruff scratching at her had Peyton’s heart threatening to burst out of her chest.

He marked up her neck, collarbones, and the tops of her breasts peeking up from her dress as Peyton made a mess of his hair, raking her fingers through. As Ethan’s lips found hers again, his hands went to her back before finding the zipper of her dress and pulling it down hastily, impatient and desperate to get it off.

And, fuck, what a sight she was.

Ethan didn’t even remember moving his laptop off the bed or even retrieving a condom, only that once Peyton was completely bare in front of him,  _ for  _ him, he’d tugged her back to the bed until she was lying down and his lips were on her again. Every fucking kiss sent an electrifying spark shooting through his body, warming him to his very core as he felt Peyton’s hands ran down his chest, as if committing him to memory.

“Fuckin’ beautiful, y’know that?” Ethan was rasping against her lips, his right hand finding home between her legs as Peyton moaned against him as he slid a single digit in between her slick folds. He groaned. “Beautiful and so wet for me.”

Peyton’s head tilted back as his finger, soon joined by a second, worked her open as the metal of his rings had every coherent thought flying out the window, a whimsical sound escaping her and her own fingers threading through his hair as Ethan moved himself down a bit, catching a nipple between his lips. She arched her back at the sensation, pushing herself into him, and Ethan fucking adored the sight of her; head back and mouth dropped open in silent gasps as she tried to catch her breath with his fingers inside of her.

He continued like that, watching her lose herself thanks to his fingers while he gave her breasts the attention they deserved, his eyes never leaving her gorgeous face and taking in every pleasured expression that flashed across it. Feeling the familiar clench in her stomach, the coil forming and burning, Peyton clenched around Ethan’s fingers while her dazed eyes met his. The sight of him with his kiss swollen lips wrapped around her nipples, peeking up at her through dark curls, had Peyton making sounds that were music to his ears.

“Ethan,” she gasped, one hand in his hair, the other on his shoulder, and her breath robbed by his fingers and the rings that shot shivers up her spine. Her nails dug into his shoulder as she felt the cool metal of his necklace teasingly drag across the bare skin of her torso. “Oh, my God—I can’t—”

Releasing her nipple, Ethan leaned up and captured Peyton’s lips with his once more, fingers never slowing down their pace as he mumbled against her lips, “Come on, sweetheart.” He pulled away from her mouth as she tilted her head back, his eyes never leaving her as an adoring yet smug smirk took over his lips, the sight of her one he wanted to picture in his head forever. He brushed his nose against her cheek as he encouraged, “Let me see you fall apart around my fingers, yeah? C’mon, baby.”

As if his fingers weren’t enough, Ethan’s words were all it took for Peyton to do just as he said, her eyes clenching shut and eyebrows furrowing as her orgasm shook through her a lot more intensely than she thought. The sounds she made had Ethan’s lips parting before rolling his lower lip into his mouth and biting down at it, the way she tensed before coming around his fingers a sight to be fucking seen. 

Peyton was breathing heavily by the time she was done, a soft whimper escaping her as Ethan pulled his fingers out, coated in her release. Smirking and already out of his sweatpants, he kneeled between her legs, grabbing the packet of the condom as he brought his fingers up to Peyton’s mouth, her lips already parted as she tried to catch her breath and he didn’t hesitate in placing his fingers in her mouth.

And she didn’t even pause in closing her lips around his digits as her hand came to grip his wrist, his stomach clenching excitedly as she sucked them clean while he tried to get his wits together and used his other hand and teeth to rip open the condom packet before rolling it onto his hardened cock. He was desperate to be in her, and lining his tip to her entrance, Ethan slid into her easily and desperately, breath hitching yet still managing to smirk as Peyton moaned around his fingers, eyes shutting with a frown and her jaw dropping at the sensation of him filling her.

The sight of her, so flushed and covered in darkening hickeys with kiss swollen lips, looking so breathtaking and perfect. . . It was definitely one to behold. One he would never get tired of.

And the image of him above her, with curls brushing across his forehead and plump lips begging to be kissed and tattooed arms she wanted to dig her nails into. . . He looked like a god.

He was definitely answering her prayers tonight.

*****

Now that they no longer had to pretend, their remaining days in Paris were that much more enjoyable. The morning after they’d slept together, Peyton and Ethan had looked at each other, mesmerized by the sight of the other laying in bed with them, wondering if it was real.

And then, Peyton asked, “No more pretending?”

To which Ethan had smirked and pulled her closer and said, “This is the real thing, sweetheart.”

And that was that.

It was baffling—in the best way—how easily things went from there. How natural it felt for them to hold hands when they went out, even so far as share a kiss when they were around their families. Which had completely shocked Mali, Edie and Diana before the two had to explain to them, away from their parents, that they were an actual couple. Their sisters and Diana had been justifiably surprised and almost disbelieving, just as floored as Ethan and Peyton that this was real and no longer pretend. But it was good. They were happy.

Besides—they got to have an official first date in Paris. It was kind of fucking amazing; dinner, then some dessert from a cute bakery before walking along the Seine, never once letting go of each other’s hands. It was perfect.

Undoubtedly, both still found themselves giggling over how  _ natural _ it all felt. How easy it was to just forget about their years and years of cold attitudes towards one another and fall into this new dynamic that felt so wonderful and blissful and full of a kind of happiness neither of them had expected to find in one another. A kind of happiness that now that both of them had gotten a taste of, would never want to let go.

The minds of their friends back home would  _ explode _ .

Sunday night, they were to go back home, their boarding time around eleven-thirty that night. It was a late flight, no doubt, but nobody seemed to mind too much since it gave them a whole day to spend in Paris for the last time. But around 9:45 that night, rushed knocks sounded on Peyton’s door, startling her from gathering all of her toiletries.

“What’s up?” she laughed in amused confusion as she opened the door to reveal a jittery Ethan, bouncing on the heels of his feet as he looked at her with a grin.

“Put on your shoes,” he told her quickly, gesturing to her feet impatiently. “We gotta do something before we leave.”

She was going to question him as to what could be so important, but Ethan was shooing her back into her room and Peyton rolled her eyes, walking in to slide on her Converse. Pocketing her phone and wallet, Peyton shot Ethan an amused look as he grasped her hand, fingers intertwining with his as he led her towards the elevators. “Are you gonna tell me where we’re going?” she questioned once they were inside. “We have to leave for the airport in, like, half an hour.”

“It won’t take that long,” Ethan reassured her, a happy glint in his dark eyes that itched at Peyton’s curiosity.

He took her out of the hotel as they began making their way down the sidewalk, walking in a comfortable silence. At one point Ethan took their joined hands and raised them so he could drape his arm around her shoulders, tucking her into his side as she changed hands to hold his right one in her left, hanging over her shoulder, so her right arm could wind around his waist as they went.

Eventually, they were at the Eiffel Tower, and Peyton shot him a questioning look as she pointed out, “We’ve already been here. A bunch of times.”

Ethan rolled his eyes, though his smile remained. “I’m well aware, doll,” he said, digging something out of his pocket.

Just as Peyton recognized his phone, the lights of the tower went off, glittering against the night sky as a bunch of tourists ooh and ahh’d at the sight. Peyton watched as Ethan stepped away from her, raising her eyebrows as he walked up to a woman standing idly by as he spoke to her. When Peyton saw her nod as he handed her phone to her, she let out a small laugh as she understood what he was doing, grinning fondly at him as he quickly made his way over.

They stood, right in front of the tower, as Ethan grasped her hands in his. “C’mere,” he murmured through a grin of his own, and Peyton easily complied as his hands familiarly grasped her face and he pressed his lips to hers.

Peyton couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, her eyes closing and arms winding around his waist, adoring how fucking cheesy and cute this was, her heart pounding that this was something Ethan wanted to do. Over the past few days of them  _ actually _ being together, she’d come to realize just how sweet he was, how thoughtful and considerate he was when it came to others. Always wanting to hold her hand or keep and arm around her, kissing the top of her head or her temple, buying her whatever treat he found her eyeing whenever they passed a bakery, and just generally being the kind of sweet she didn’t expect from him.

It was a wonderfully pleasant realization, and Peyton hated that it took five years for her to see that.

They pulled away moments later, foreheads pressing together and breathy giggles escaping them both as she commented, “That was so freaking sweet.”

Ethan pressed his lips to hers once more before pulling away with a cheeky wink. “Not as sweet as you, doll.”

Her cheeks hurt from how widely she was smiling. 

A few hours later, Peyton was in the bathroom at the airport, washing her hands as her mom stepped out of the stall and came up next to her. They were about to board soon, everyone else seated in the waiting area for their gate as Peyton put some soap on her hands. 

“I’m glad you and Ethan finally saw what the rest of us were seeing,” her mom hummed as she turned on the tap, catching Peyton’s attention. Casually, her mother added, “A bit ridiculous that you had to see it  _ after _ your attempt at trying to fool us but, hey, whatever does the trick.”

Peyton froze, hands unmoving under the running water as her head snapped up, eyes going to her mother through the reflection of the mirror in front of them. Her thoughts had ceased out of complete shock. Through a startled laugh, she asked, “What?”

Her mom chuckled in amusement, washing her hands before shooting her daughter a knowing look. “Come on, honey, you think you could play your own mom? Please,” she scoffed with a roll of her eyes, turning off the tap. “It wasn’t hard to figure out you two were only pretending.”

Peyton couldn’t believe what she was hearing, absently turning off the tap and gaping at her mom with wide eyes and a slackened jaw. She was deaf to the other women in the bathroom, to the water running and toilets flushing and the automatic hand dryers roaring as she followed her mom to one of them.  _ She knew _ ? Peyton was in a state of complete disbelief. “If—If you knew then how co—why didn’t you say anything?” she stammered out, unable to totally get her thoughts together.

“Because I knew what would happen if I stayed quiet,” her mom answered with a laugh, looking quite smug. “I knew you two would eventually see how well you work together and would stop pretending on your own. I just waited for it to happen. I’m happy it didn’t take you too long, though. It was only a matter of time until you realized you were no longer pretending.”

“Oh, my God,” Peyton scoffed out a laugh, her wide eyes and disbelieving smile still on her face as she shook her head at her mom while drying her hands. “So we were just pretending for nothing?”

Her mom clicked her tongue. “Not for nothing,” she reminded with a smile. “You got quite a handsome boyfriend out of it, didn’t you?”

Peyton pressed her smiling lips together, the disbelief still leaving her in a state of bewilderment, yet she couldn’t stop the grin from forming as she thought of her tall, dark haired and tattooed boyfriend. A boyfriend she dizzyingly adored. “Yeah,” she relented with a sigh that could be only described as blissful, her cheeks warming at the thought of Ethan. “I did.”

Her smug mother winked. “Told you so.”

Peyton scoffed again, pressing her tongue to the back of her teeth in wonderous awe as her mom left the bathroom, shaking her head to shake the shock off. Although she doubted that would happen any time soon. She couldn’t  _ believe _ her mother knew this entire time, letting her and Ethan believe that they had their parents fooled. Peyton wondered if anyone else knew, too, but then figured that it wasn’t important. Not anymore. Not when she and Ethan were actually together with no scheme up their sleeves.

By the time she returned to where their gate was, they were already lining up to board and Peyton smiled when she saw Ethan standing amongst their families, her travel backpack hanging off one of his shoulders from the strap. She took it from him once she came to stand next to him, and Ethan smiled, “Got Mali to switch seats with you.” His arm found home around her shoulders as he leaned he tucked her closer. “You’re mind for the next eleven hours.”

Oh, man, she was his for as long as he’d have her.

Peyton grinned at that as the line shuffled forward. “Ethan.” He looked at her, raising an eyebrow, and the incredulous smile was on her face as she quietly told him, “My mom knew. She knew about the plan this entire time.”

She watched as dumbfoundment flashed across Ethan’s face, eyebrows drawing together and eyes widening, mirroring the expression she must’ve had in the bathroom upon hearing the same thing. “What? Are you kidding?” he asked through a confused, deep chuckle.

Peyton rolled her smiling lips into her mouth as she shook her head before letting out a laugh. “No, she just told me in the bathroom. I’m just as shook as you are.”

Ethan looked ahead with the incredulous expression still painted on his face, lips parted before he looked back at Peyton. “How come she never said anything?” 

Peyton shrugged, but still smiled as she recalled her mother’s words, her dark eyes meeting Ethan’s as her smile turned soft, her tone quiet. “She said it was only a matter of time until we realized we weren’t pretending anymore,” she told him, feeling her heart flutter when a smile graced Ethan’s lips as well after a small scoff of his own.

“Guess she was right,” Ethan hummed as they took a few more steps forward. He gazed down at Peyton, taking in her pretty face with dark eyes and long lashes and pink lips and adorable freckles. Took in how stunning she was, and how much he found himself just absolutely adoring her, infatuated with her, in a matter of days. How quickly just pretending transformed into something so fucking real and how the girl Ethan hadn’t gotten along with easily became the one he couldn’t stop thinking about.

He grinned, boyish and charming as he completely pressed her into his side, head tilted down to keep his gaze locked on her warm one. “I think we can both agree this plan of mine was  _ riveting _ , huh?” 

At that, Peyton let out a laugh, head tilting back as Ethan grinned, knowing she picked up on the reference to the night when he first told her about his idea, how she’d rejected it before even listening to it. Peyton shook her head, a happy grin lighting up her face and her eyes, shaking her head up at Ethan as she asked, “Are you gonna play that card a lot? Let me know now.”

Ethan pressed his forehead to hers, uncaring that they were in a public place, loving any kind of closeness he could get with Peyton. Her left hand came up to grasp his right that was hanging off her shoulder, intertwining their fingers. “Of course I am. It’s the best plan I’ve ever had.”

Mirth danced in her dark eyes, leaning away from him ever so slightly as she teasingly asked, “Oh, so am I just a plan, then?”

Ethan’s smile lessened a bit, a serious expression falling over his face yet the fondness for the women he was holding never diminished from his eyes. “No,” he said, tone quiet and just for her, pulling her back into him. Ethan lightly brushed his nose against hers, pressing a soft kiss to her inviting lips, smiling when she tried to chase his lips once he pulled away. “You’re my girl. You’re the real fuckin’ thing.”

  
  
  



End file.
